As
you know Serge, I don’t usually have too much
trouble getting these reviews down on paper for
you – in fact you’ll remember the only
time I’ve really struggled was when it came
to trying to describe what I judged to be the execrable
performance by Steve Harley at the Shepherd’s
Bush Empire last year. The review was never written,
and by nominating it ‘The Gig that was So
Bad that I Couldn’t Be Arsed to Review It
Award’ for the Whiskyfun Music Awards I received
brickbats and recriminations from Steve Harley fans
all over the world (well, one to be honest, and
if you really want to judge which one of us was
right you can always go to the Bush
to see Steve next month, but don’t expect
to meet me there). But my philosophy has always
been to say it how you see it – and that’s
why on this occasion I’m stumped. Quite simply
lost for words – I was when we walked out
of the Barbican into the stinging cold rain, and
I still am.

My
familiarity with Wayne
Shorter comes, of course, from the
band he co-founded with keyboard player Joe
Zawinul, Weather Report. In 1970 they picked
up the baton of jazz-rock (or probably more accurately
jazz-soul) from Joe Sample’s Crusaders and
simply redefined the genre with a series of outstanding
albums, of which my personal favourite remains the
wonderful Heavy Weather. Of course it was some time
before I learned about Shorter’s jazz pedigree,
both as a performer and composer, with legends Art
Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, and then (for seven
years) Miles Davis. During this period he also produced
a number of solo albums, of which Speak No Evil,
or so I’m told, is the best. His tenure in
Weather Report lasted ‘till the mid 1980s,
after which he continued to collaborate with artistes
such as Herbie Hancock, and also Joni Mitchell,
having been an almost permanent fixture on her recordings
since the late 1970s. About six years ago he formed
his current band – featuring Danilo
Perez on piano, John
Patitucci on bass and Brian
Blade, on drums (Shorter, as I might have said
already, plays tenor and soprano saxophones), and
they’re here tonight at a heaving Barbican
as part of the London Jazz Festival, sponsored by
BBC Radio 3.

We
arrive too late for British jazz veteran Stan Tracey
so hung out in the foyer star-spotting (well, we
saw saxophonist Andy Sheppard). Shorter and his
band are promptly on stage at 8.45. Shorter is 73
– somewhat lacking in mobility – and
he almost wedges himself into the curved rim of
the piano, using it as a support. That, believe
me, is the only sign of frailty he gives. From start
to finish the vigour, freshness and fluidity of
his playing is quite astonishing, but it is equally
matched by the playing of the other four musicians
– of whom (though they were all so good it
seems unfair) Blade stood out particularly, switching
from deft percussive delicacy to driving drum rhythms
with none of the awkwardness that his ‘arms
and elbows’ style of playing might have suggested.
I’m sure the individual pieces were compositions,
(indeed I believe we got a version of Shorter’s
‘Footprints’) and they were clearly
well-structured, but the evening was characterised
by the performers effortlessly swapping improvisations.
And that is where I stop because I simply don’t
have the language to describe how complex and engrossing
this exhilarating performance was – and I’m
not prepared to cut and paste it from the work of
others.

So
let me tell you instead what I was thinking about
whilst I floated in this music (I should add that
the Barbican sound was perfect, none of the irritating
hiss that sometimes bedevils gigs there). I thought
of whirlpools, the sort that you often see in the
sometimes troubled waters adjacent to the Great
Gulf
of Corryvreckan at the north of the Sound of
Jura of the West Coast of Scotland. Small whirlpools
circling each other and then gradually merging to
from a larger pool, circling larger pools. It’s
a bit like viscimetry really, and the movement of
the whorls of flavour bearing compounds that a drop
of water will release in a glass of whisky. A hypnotic,
thought-consuming, irregular and shifting pattern,
repeated with greater or lesser intensity as the
evening progressed. I was simply entranced, and
it was a very nice place to be.

Needless
to say I was rudely pulled back to reality by the
standing ovation that justifiably greeted the end
of the set. It was really something that you simply
didn’t want to end - so I’ve made a
mental note to add Shorter’s Footprints Live
and Beyond the Sound Barrier albums from 2002 and
2005 to my Christmas gift list, both are well reviewed,
and if they are only half as good as this concert
then they must be worth adding to the CD library.
Treat yourself – you can buy both for around
the price of a bottle of decent single malt and
they’ll last a lot longer. - Nick Morgan
(photographs by Kate)